


Witch's Moon

by NilesDaughter



Series: Hunting Magic [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 19:06:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1869036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NilesDaughter/pseuds/NilesDaughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scheherazade Parandeh has managed to use White Magick as a helping tool in the hunting of malevolent supernatural creatures, and Marianna Perry has helped keep her secret. But when they meet Sam and Dean, Scheherazade's secret may just blow up in her face...especially when her past begins to close in on her and the apocalypse is around the corner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Witch's Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I'm trying out a couple new OCs...Let's see how this goes...

TAMPA, FLORIDA

“I said, _good night_!” Jane Lovelace giggled, trying to close the front door of her apartment on her boyfriend.

Ben Collins stopped the door with his foot, grinning. “But it’s too early for that,” he teased.

“Ben, I have an interview for an internship tomorrow. You can’t stay tonight,” she insisted, a little exasperated, but still in good humor.

“Just promise you’ll call when you’re done. I’ll take you out for lunch, alright? Anywhere you want.”

“What if I don’t get it?”

“So? I still want to celebrate my girl’s accomplishments.” He shot her a cheeky grin.

She rolled her eyes, blushing a little. “Fine, I’ll call you after my interview. I promise. Now, _go_.” She emphasized her words with a shooing hand gesture.

He leaned forward and landed a peck on her cheek. “Okay, okay, see you tomorrow, Jane,” he said and walked away.

Laughing a little to herself, Jane closed and locked the door before heading to the bathroom, undoing her hair and unclipping her earrings. She turned away from the sink and started to shimmy out of her dress before crossing to the shower; she turned on the water and slipped inside, humming to herself as she began to shampoo her hair.

When she finished, she reached for a towel, wrapping it around herself before opening the shower curtain; Jane froze when she had pulled it open all the way. Sitting in the doorway of the bathroom was a king cobra, coiled up and apparently sleeping.

“How in the…?”

The cobra’s eyes opened and it lifted its head, as if it had been woken up by the sound of her voice. It seemed to fix its gaze on her, flicking its tongue out.

Jane swallowed, wondering if she could get to a phone, but knowing the chances were slim, considering the creature was blocking her exit. If only had let Ben stay the night…The cobra began to slither closer to the tub, and she backed up against the tile wall of the shower. The cobra listed up and slithered into the shower.

She shrieked and tried to clamber out of the tub, tripping on her way out. As she tried to scramble to her feet, Jane felt the cobra brushing against her leg. Stiffening, her eyes wide, she turned her face towards the creature; it swayed back and forth for a few moments with its hood splayed out before it hissed and lunged toward her.

She screamed.  
* * *  
“So, get this,” Sam Winchester said, flicking his hazel gaze up to his older brother and away from his laptop.

“Hmm?” Dean groaned in response, rotating his shoulder, which had been paining him since they had finished their last job, one involving a runaway hay wagon that had sent the elder Winchester flying into a barn.

“A woman in Tampa, Jane Lovelace, was bitten by a king cobra in her bathroom, and died.”

“That doesn’t seem like our kind of thing. Just sounds like a pet on the rampage.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t,” Sam pressed. “According to the report, she didn’t own a king cobra, and she didn’t have a permit for one, either. The police never even found the snake.”

Dean frowned. “A vengeful snake spirit?”

Sam shrugged. “We’ve dealt with weirder.”

The elder Winchester sighed heavily, closing his eyes and running a hand over his face. After a beat, his eyes opened again. “Alright, fine. We’ll go to Tampa to take care of the ghost serpent.”

Sam rolled his eyes and closed his laptop.  
* * *  
The Impala pulled up to the apartment complex, and Dean peered up at it through the windshield. “You sure this is the right place? Doesn’t it seem a little…I don’t know, expensive for a college kid?”

“Well, his friends did say that his parents are well-off…I guess he gets coddled.”

“Must be…Well, let’s get going and ask him about his girlfriend and her experience with slithery reptiles.”

Sam nodded and got out of the Impala, heading into the building and crossing to the elevator, calling it down to the lobby. He sighed and waited for Dean to catch up. The two brothers traveled up to the fourth floor, and then down the hall to unit 415. Sam sighed again and knocked, taking out his fake FBI badge.

The door opened, and a young man looked out at them.

“Ben Collins?” Sam asked.

“Yeah?”

“I’m Agent Rourke, and this is my partner, Agent Wilson. We just have a few questions about your—”

“I already went over this with the other agent,” Ben interrupted, looking a little puzzled. “Don’t you keep in contact with each other?”

Sam exchanged a startled look with Dean before looking back to Ben, composing himself again. “What other agent?”

“Here, she gave me her business card.” Ben ducked back into the apartment. “Oh, and you can come on in!” he called back over his shoulder as he headed to his bedroom.

Sam slipped inside, Dean in tow.

“Dude, what if the feds really are on this case?” the elder of the two asked quietly, turning to face his younger brother.

“Then we move on,” Sam replied decidedly.

“But what is this is our kind of thing?”

“Dean, we can’t get tangled up with the FBI again!” Sam reminded desperately.

“But we can’t just leave until we figure out if this is something only we can take care of or not.”

Sam opened his mouth to argue back, but snapped it shut again when Ben returned.

“Here,” the student said, handing over the business card. “She was Hispanic, I think. Do you know her?”

Sam glanced down at the name on the card: Katherine Santos. “No, we don’t. But my partner and I will certainly get in touch with her so that we can collaborate on the case. Sorry to bother you.” He nodded and turned toward the door, gesturing for Dean to follow.

As they headed to the Impala, Sam pulled out his phone and started to dial the number on the card.

“Hello?”

“Agent Santos, this is Agent Rourke, and I—”

The other line clicked, cutting him off.

Sam frowned at his phone. “…That was weird…”

“What?” Dean asked, loosening his tie as got in on the driver’s side.

“Uh…I think she hung up on me.”

“Maybe the line went dead?”

Sam’s brow furrowed, not thinking that that had been the case. He felt certain the call had been disconnected on purpose…“I don’t know, man. This feels off…” he admitted to his brother, glancing up.

Dean rolled his eyes. “I think you’re just overthinking this, Sammy. Look, let’s just get back to the motel. You can call her up again, if you want, but I think we should just start up again in the morning.”  
* * *  
Scheherazade Parandeh ran a hand through her hair, staring at her phone. “Shit!” she hissed for the hundredth time, tossing the device onto the motel bed. She crossed to the far wall, looking at the accumulated evidence of the deaths in Tampa. She couldn’t have the feds on her tail…The sooner she figured out what was killing the victims, the sooner she could bail.

Her phone rang again, and she jumped. As it rang again, she picked it up, grumbling a little to herself.

“Goddess…Some hunter I am…” She shook her head and she answered. “Hello?”

“Agent Santos?”

She swallowed and brushed her hair behind her ear, recognizing the voice as the agent that had just called her. “Yes. I’m really sorry about earlier. My phone has terrible service. How can I help you?” she finally replied, forcing herself to sound cheerful yet apologetic.

“My partner and I just spoke to Ben Collins, and he pointed us in your direction. Perhaps we should collaborate on this case?”

Scheherazade bit her lip. She couldn’t say ‘no;’ if she did that, she would look suspicious. But if she said ‘yes,’ she would risk being found out as a fraud, and then where would she be? Stuck in jail. She swallowed.

“Of course. Where and when should we meet?”  
* * *  
Dean sighed heavily as Sam continued to look around the diner for anyone that approached their table.

“Cut it out, Sammy. You look like you’re waiting for a blind date.”

Sam slapped his brother’s arm. “Shut up.”

The elder Winchester chuckled a little and turned his attention back to his breakfast platter, digging into his side of bacon.

The younger brother rolled his eyes and took a sip of his coffee, his eyes continuing to scan the diner. Eventually, a dark-skinned woman in a business suit walked in and, after a quick survey of the place, approached them.

“Agents Rourke and Wilson?” she asked.

Sam nodded, looking her over carefully. “Agent Santos?”

She nodded in return and took the side of the booth opposite them. “So, you want to know what I found out from Ben?”

“And anything else you might have gathered about the case that we may not have picked up,” Sam added.

Scheherazade nodded carefully. “Well, Ben wasn’t too helpful…He just told me what happened prior to Jane’s death. But I have connected the victims—”

“Wait, ‘victims’ plural?” Dean interrupted.

Scheherazade fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Yes. Jane is the fourth dead body, but only the first to make the papers. And that’s only really because her brother is a reporter.”

“So…What’s the connection?” Sam asked after he had cast a glance at Dean.

“Manner of death, for one. All of the four victims were killed by king cobras, even though none of them had the license for them. And they were all Environmental Studies majors that were involved in a water reservoir clean-up project that went wayside. Rather than clean up the water, they contaminated it, and didn’t bother to fix their mess.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up, and he glanced at Dean. This was sounding more and more like their kind of thing…Dean nodded back subtlety.

Scheherazade frowned a little, taking note of the exchange. Maybe the two young men sitting across from her were hunters, too…Then again, maybe not. “So, I figure that the killer is someone who found out about the reservoir, and is retaliating,” she told them. “But then that would only narrow it down to every crazy nature conservationist in Tampa.”

Sam frowned. “You’re right…That doesn’t help…”

Scheherazade nodded. “Exactly. And I haven’t been able to narrow down the list yet.”

“Well, we’ll be glad to help,” Sam said, and fought a wince when Dean kicked him under the table.

Scheherazade quirked a brow as she watched the two, noticing this exchange, as well. “The help would definitely come in handy,” she lied easily, dismissing what she had just witnessed. “Thank you,” she added as she offered them a smile, standing. “I’ll go get my notes from my car,” she informed before leaving the table.

Dean carefully watched her go, and turned back to Sam. “We can’t help her!” he protested in a low voice.

“Why not? We need her notes.”

“But what if she gets suspicious and tries to check our badge numbers?”

Sam gave him a skeptical look. “Since when have you ever worried about that?”

“Since we only just got off the FBI’s ‘Most Wanted’ list.”

“Yeah…” Sam suddenly frowned, his brow knitting together with concern. “Then she would have recognized us already.”

Dean blinked, and then looked angry. “Shit, you’re right. She’s probably calling us in.” He started to stand up. “We need to get out of here.”

“Wait, Dean! She didn’t recognize us. At least, I don’t think she did…If she did, don’t you think that she would have already been waving a gun at us already?”

Dean didn’t look as convinced. “Well, I suppose, but—”

“We need to look over her research,” Sam reasoned.

“We’ve ganked plenty of things, saved plenty of people, with less information. We’ll be fine without it. Now, let’s go.”

Sam sighed, and finally stood up. “Alright, fine, if it makes you feel better…” The two brothers began to head for the diner door, just as Scheherazade started to walk back in, a manila folder in hand.

“Oh, are you two leaving?” she asked, blinking as she watched the two, a flash of panic filling her, wondering if they had found her out as being a fake agent.

“Uh…No. We were coming to see if you needed any help carrying anything in,” Sam offered quickly.

She shook her head. “No, this is all I have.” She gestured to the booth they had been previously occupying. “Shall we?”

Sam cast a helpless glance at Dean, who just glared back at his brother before the two followed Scheherazade to the table. She began to pull out papers from the manila folder, passing them across the table to the boys.

“And this is all you have?” Sam asked after he had looked over the papers.

“Unfortunately,” Scheherazade replied, though in reality she had much more taped to the walls of her motel room. That research, however, was all supernatural-related, and would not have made her any less suspicious if she had presented it to the two agents.

Sam frowned—what he had been given wasn’t anything more than what he and Dean didn’t already know about the victims.

“You said that all the victims were part of the same clean-up project?” Dean asked.

“That’s right,” Scheherazade replied, glancing over at him.

The elder Winchester glanced up. “Because we at least know who’s next on the list. The project header, Joseph Schubarth. He isn’t dead yet. Maybe he’ll know what’s going on.”

Sam took the paper from Dean, looking it over. “Well, we should go talk to him.”

“Then we should head over,” Scheherazade suggested. “Warn him that he might be the next victim.” If he isn’t the killer, she added to herself.

Sam nodded his agreement. “Right. Let’s get going,” he said, looking over at Dean.

“Right…” he agreed hesitantly.  
* * *  
“I don’t feel right about this, Sammy. She’s making me nervous,” Dean commented as the Impala followed Scheherazade’s Camry.

“Well, you’re not the only one,” Sam replied as he watched the blue car through the windshield, frowning. He knew that they got away with driving the Impala, mostly because they were lucky enough that people didn’t know better. The younger Winchester also supposed that it also helped that their father’s old car has a black exterior, matching the mindset of the general populace that all feds had black vehicles. Sam was, however, certain that federal agents wouldn’t be able to get away with driving their personal cars on a case, and the Camry in front of them certainly seemed to be a personal car…

“What is she waiting for…?” Dean continued, interrupting Sam’s train of thought. “She must know who we are…Why isn’t she trying to haul our asses to jail?”

“Well, I—” Sam fell silent as Scheherazade pulled up to a small, single-story house.

Dean pulled up behind her, and the two brothers got out of the Impala to follow Scheherazade up to the front door, standing behind her as she knocked, waiting patiently for an answer. However, they were left waiting, and eventually Dean grew impatient and gestured for Sam and Scheherazade to move out of the way, and once it was clear, proceeded to break the door down. He quickly drew his 0.45 and rushed into the house as the other two followed, their own weapons drawn. The three of them split up to check separate rooms of the house.

Scheherazade opened the door to the mast bedroom and stepped inside, immediately overwhelmed by the scent of rotting flesh. She coughed and quickly brought the back of her hand up to her nose, stepping closer to the bed, peeking under the bed sheets to find the body of Joseph Schubarth, long-dead, with several snake bites across his torso.

“Great…” she muttered under her breath, and turned back towards the bedroom door. “Agents?” she called.

Dean was the first to reach her. “You find anything?”

“That we’re too late. He’s already dead, and has been for a while, judging by the smell,” Scheherazade explained.

He made a face and pulled out his phone, dialing a number as he walked back out to the living room. “I’d like to report a dead body…”

Scheherazade looked back inside the room, and started to poke around in all the drawers in the closet and in the dresser. She dropped down to her knees and lifted the bed skirt, looking towards all the bedposts. Besides the one nearest to her was a small bowl. She blinked and took it out from under the bed, looking the ceramic over. The design was Indian, and entirely misplaced in the very conservative set-up of Joseph’s room.

“Hey, my partner told me you found the body?” Sam asked from the doorway, causing her to jump and drop the bowl with a dull THUD.

Scheherazade took a deep breath to calm her nerves, and looked up at him, nodding. “Yeah…” She glanced back at the bowl, her brow furrowing. It looked familiar…

“What is that?” Sam asked.

“Oh, nothing. Just some pottery.” She picked it up. “It just looks familiar, so I’m going to do some fact-checking. It may have something to do with the case, but I could be wrong, of course.”

“Alright, if you think it’s worth checking out…” Sam frowned, glancing at the bowl she held, unsure of why a federal agent would be interested in it…

Scheherazade quickly left the room, eager to go back to the motel…Sam followed her out, glancing at Dean, noticing that he also looked eager to get going.

“What’s wrong?” he asked his brother in a soft voice.

“I called the cops. You know how I prefer to scram before they get here…”

Sam nodded. “Alright. I should start looking for stuff related to snakes, and try to figure out what we’re dealing with.”  
* * *  
“I knew it!” Scheherazade breathed, leaning back in her chair with a triumphant smile on her face. The bowl she had picked up from the crime scene had indeed been familiar, because she had seen similar ceramic pieces she had seen during her time in India; bowls like the one she now had in her possession were often filled with milk in order to lure snakes, particularly cobras, out of one’s household.

Scheherazade let out a sigh. “That means that it’s probably a naga…Well, that would explain why this is happening because of the reservoir…” She pushed back from the table and headed over to her bed, changing out of her suit and into jeans and a t-shirt before she slipped on her boots and headed for the door, grabbing her jacket on the way out.

She headed back to the Schubarth house so that she could see if there might be any clues about the location of the naga…

As Scheherazade came to a complete stop outside Joseph’s house, she glanced out the window and over at the fence surrounding the backyard, gauging how tall it was. Satisfied she could jump it, she turned off the car and got out, popping the trunk so she could get her weapons: a handgun with regular bullets, in case she ran into any human trouble, and a small blowtorch in case the naga showed up.

After checking that no one was watching her, she ran across the lawn and jumped up to grab the top of the fence, quickly walking her feet up the wooden slats and propelling herself over the top, dropping down to the other side. Scheherazade head over to the back door and began to pick the lock, eventually emerging in the kitchen.

Closing the door behind her, she made her way back to the bedroom, sectioned off with caution tape from the police visiting earlier. Scheherazade opened the door and ducked under the yellow plastic, turning on the flashlight she had tucked into her jacket before beginning to search the room for additional clues.

Just when she was about to give up, her search having turned up nothing, she heard the front door opening and the sound of hushed voices. Exchanging her gun for her flashlight, she crept towards the door, pressing herself against the wall.

Sam pushed the bedroom door open, stepping inside and turning his flashlight on she he could take a look around…He stumbled forward as he was forcefully hit on the back of the neck with what felt like the butt of a handgun.

As he turned, off-balance from the sudden blow, his legs were kicked out from under him, and then he was struck across the face with the gun once he hit the floor. As he moved to get back to his feet, Sam Received a sharp kick to his side before he was tackled, slim but very strong arms wrapping around his neck in order to cut off his oxygen supply.

As he began to feel dizzy, and after several failed attempts to roll over to try to force his attacker off, Sam heard a sharp crack of wood striking flesh, and the pressure on his windpipe fell away. Gasping for air, he struggled to all fours and looked up in time to see his brother knock the unknown assailant to the floor, the figure becoming still.

“You okay, Sammy?” Dean asked worriedly.

“Fine,” he panted, glancing at whoever had attacked him.

Dean glanced over and flicked on the light switch so they could see better.

“It’s Agent Santos.” Sam sounded shocked.

“I knew something was off about her. I told you.”

“Shut up.” After a pause, Sam looked up at his brother. “What are we supposed to do with her?”

“Well, she’s here for a reason. Let’s find out what she really knows.”  
* * *  
“Ow…” Scheherazade groaned softly and rolled her neck around. “Goddess, that hurt…”

“Morning, sunshine.”

She gasped and opened her eyes fully, looking up to see Agent Wilson staring at her. She tried to reach for her gun, but found that her hands were tied behind the chair she was sitting in. She swallowed, knowing that she must have been found out.

 

“Glad you’re awake,” Dean continued, straightening up and unscrewing the lid of his flask.

Scheherazade watched him, frowning in confusion as she watched him work the lid off the flask, and sputtered when he suddenly splashed her with the contents. She shook her now-wet bangs out of her eyes and groaned.

“I should’ve known!”

Dean frowned at her. “What?”

Scheherazade rolled her eyes. “I’m human, alright?” She fought the urge to bite her lip at the lie. “So there’s no need to stab me with silver or shoot me up with dead man’s blood, or do any other monster tests, alright? Now, untie me so we can actually work this case together.”

“…You’re a hunter?” Dean asked.

She rolled her eyes. “No shit, Sherlock.”

"How do we know you’re telling the truth?” Sam asked, joining his brother’s side.

“Oh, for Goddess’ sake…Fine! If it makes you feel safer, go ahead and proceed with your tests.”

Sam cast a glance at Dean, and then looked back at Scheherazade. “Excuse us.” He took Dean by the arm and led him outside.

“What?” Dean demanded once the door closed.

“Do you believe her?” Sam asked anxiously.

“Of course I don’t.”

Sam sighed and looked away, running a hand through his hair. “Well, what do we do with her?”

“Don’t talk about me like I’m another monster or some poor, possessed sap,” Scheherazade said as she opened the door of the motel room, glaring out at the brothers.

Dean jumped. “How did you get out of the ropes?”

“You have to learn a few more tricks when you’re a woman in this business, short stuff.”

“’Short’…? You do realize I’m taller than you, right?”

“But your buddy over here makes you look like a shrimp.”

Dean opened his mouth to retort, but Sam stopped him by extending a hand to Scheherazade.

“Maybe we should start over…I’m Sam Winchester, and this is my brother, Dean.”

“Oh, so _you’re_ the Winchesters that everybody keeps going on about…” she murmured after giving Sam’s hand a little shake.

“You’ve heard of us?”

“There’s hardly anyone that _hasn’t_. You’re the boys that broke the lock on Lucifer’s cage.”

Sam grimaced and looked away from her.

“It wasn’t his fault,” Dean defended.

“I didn’t say it was. I’m just repeating what I’ve heard…Anyway, my name is Scheherazade Parandeh.”

“‘Scheherazade’? Like in ‘One Thousand and One Arabian Nights’?” Sam asked, looking back at her.

“Yes. Exactly.” She smiled faintly. “Now, I can help you. I know what we’re up against.”

“You do?”

She nodded. “Yes. And I know how to kill it. I’ve been up against one before.”

“What is it, then?” Dean asked.

“It’s a naga, half-man and half-snake. It has control over cobras, so that’s why all the victims died the same way. In order to kill it, you have to torch it.”

Sam glanced at Dean, and then looked back to Scheherazade. “Do you know where it might be hiding?”

“I would suspect that it’s hiding out near the reservoir. Naga and nagini tend to be associated with water. They’re usually friendly, because they’re seen as beings of fertility, but this one seems to feel offended about the failed clean-up project.”

Dean shook his head and glanced up at Sam. “Jesus, she sounds just like you—a walking, talking encyclopedia.”

“I will shoot you in the balls,” Scheherazade replied coolly. “So don’t try my patience, Winchester.”

Sam looked away as he tried—and failed—not to smirk as Dean’s face fell into a look of frustration.

“Now that the two of you are up to speed, let’s get going. I hope you still have my gun and blowtorch?”

“Inside, on my bed,” Dean replied.

“Great. I’ll go get my stuff, and then we can head on over to the reservoir.” Scheherazade slipped back into the motel room after flashing the boys a smile.

Dean made a face. “She’s such a bitch.”

Sam chuckled. “I actually like her.”

“Even though she managed to get the jump on you?”

“I think making fun of you made up for that,” he joked.

Dean punched Sam’s arm. “Shut up.”

The younger brother chuckled again, looking back towards Scheherazade when she reappeared.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

“Nothing. So, do you want to lead the way to the reservoir?” Sam asked her.

“Yeah, that’s what I was planning…I just need to be taken back to my car, if you don’t mind.”

Dean grimaced. “Fine…”  
* * *  
Scheherazade pulled up to the gate surrounding the reservoir, and killed the engine, sliding out of the car and glancing back at the brothers, waiting for them to join her. When they did, she went around to her trunk. “Alright, you’re going to need these,” she informed them, pulling out additional blowtorches, one for each of them.

“Thanks…” Sam muttered, and looked over at Dean, who was treating his new weapon like a bomb that could go off at any moment. The younger Winchester rolled his eyes and looked back at Scheherazade. “Lead the way.”

She nodded and started off towards the water, walking its perimeter, the pat lit only by the beams of their flashlights, and the night silent.

“…So, what are we looking for, again?” Dean eventually asked.

“Hmm…Tracks…Traces of gold…”

“Why gold?”

“Naga are treasure guardians. If we’re lucky, we might find some of its horde spilling over and figure out where it’s staying.”

Dean shook his head, and glanced at Sam. “I still stand by what I said earlier,” he whispered.

Sam rolled his eyes, and then stopped short, tilting his head a little bit. “Do you hear that?’

His brother paused and looked around, hearing nothing aside from Scheherazade’s receding footsteps and the water gently lapping against the shore. He frowned, and sighed, “I don’t hear anything.”

“I could’ve sworn I heard slithering…” The brunet suddenly fell out of Dean’s sight, and the grass began to rustle, accompanied by Sam’s grunts as he hit rocks and branches as he was quickly dragged away.

“Shit…Sammy!” Dean began to chase after his brother, drawing Scheherazade’s attention.

“Fuck,” she muttered, turning to run after the Winchesters, hoping they’d be able to get to Sam before he was bitten…If they weren’t, even she wouldn’t be able to help him…She finally caught up to Dean, who had stopped short and was looking around.

“Shit,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair, making it stick up more than it already was.

“Did you lose them?” Scheherazade asked breathlessly.

“Yeah…”

She swallowed and looked around, before closing her eyes to listen for any sound apart from her and Dean’s breathing. “Come on…” she whispered to herself, not wanting to allow another hunter to die on her watch…

Finally, she heard soft, hissing voices, coming from some point to their left. Scheherazade opened her eyes and went off in that direction, gesturing for Dean to follow her. Eventually, they stumbled across a grove hidden in the trees surrounding the reservoir, the ground littered with gold and jewels and the writhing forms of hundreds of snakes.

“Be careful,” she muttered to Dean. “A lot of these snakes are king cobras…One bite could kill you.”

“Right…”

Scheherazade nodded and looked around for any sign of Sam…She stiffened when she finally took notice of the younger Winchester being strung up on a tree by the naga, at the far end of the grove. Blood trickled down the side of his face, but she noticed it was only from a head wound, and that hadn’t been bitten…yet.

She let out a breath, and began to look around the grove for a safe path to Sam.

“I’m ssssssso glad you managed to join usssss,” the naga finally spoke, finished tying Sam to the tree, and turned to face them. He smiled a little, tongue flicking out to taste the air.

Dean drew his Colt and pointed it at the naga. “You let my brother go, you son of a bitch!”

The naga’s eyes narrowed. “You will sssssshow me ressssspect, mortal,” he hissed, and made a spitting noise.

Dean made a sort of yelping sound as he was suddenly bound with several snakes, writhing and constricting as if they were living rope. At the same time, a single king cobra perched upon his shoulders, poised to strike when its master said to; Scheherazade noticed that a second cobra waited near Sam’s neck, as well.

“I ssssssenssssssse that the female hasssss a better temperament. Sssssshe hassss many yearssss of wisssssdom with her.”

Scheherazade swallowed, hoping her secret wouldn’t be spilled so easily, and also hating that the fate of both brothers were now up to her…”You want to talk?” she asked, managing to sound exasperated.

“Yessssss. I want you to help me.”

“And why should I do that when you’re trying to kill my friends?”

“They will be releassssssed once you have helped to cure our water. I have taken care of those who have disssssresssspected my blessssssssssingssssss, but the water musssst be resssstored to itssssss original sssssstate.”

“If I do this for you, then the brothers will be freed?”

“I promissssse thisssss…”

“I need you to come with me, then. I do know of a spell that can clean the water, but it does require one of your scales.”

“I sssssshould only have to give you one here.”

“No, you see, I also need your approval. A great being such as yourself should not settle for a partial job.” She swallowed again, hoping her flattery did the trick.

“Yessss, there issssss the ressssspect I desssssserve,” the naga hissed, looking pleased as he puffed up a little with pride.

“But of course,” Scheherazade assured him, continuing her charade as she cast an anxious glance at the Winchesters. At least they still seemed okay…for now. She looked back at the naga. “Shall we?”

He slithered over to her side, the snakes on the ground parting for him. “Yessss, we ssssshall.”

Scheherazade nodded, and started to walk back towards the water’s edge, listening as the naga’s snake body slithered against the ground. Her mind was working double-time trying to plan how she could kill the naga…She remembered from the last time she faced one that once the naga was killed, its entourage of serpents would also be dispersed…She just didn’t think her blowtorch would do the job quick enough, especially when there were king cobras at the Winchesters’ necks…

“Perform the ssssspell.”

She blinked, realizing that they had already reached the water. She swallowed, and hesitantly conjured up a bowl, as well as some herbs, making it look as if she were really going to perform a spell, all the while aware of the naga’s watchful gaze as she mixed the ingredients together.

“May I take one of your scales, now?” Scheherazade finally asked.

“Yesssssss.” He reached down to his side, breaking his gaze for just a moment, long enough for Scheherazade to call enough fire magick to light the naga ablaze when he was distracted.

The creature screamed, writhing as the flames engulfed him. “You lying—!”

“Witch? Yeah, I get that a lot,” she replied coolly, though her panic spiked. If the thing was still able to insult her, then did that mean the naga had sent the kill order to his cobras? Were the Winchester brothers were already dead?

The naga screamed in rage and pain, and finally exploded. Silence fell again, and Scheherazade breathed out shakily. She dismissed the remaining embers, as well as her supplies for the fake spell. She glanced over at the reservoir, and swiped a hand across what she could see of it in her field of vision, and the pollution began to clear up. Scheherazade let out another breath, and took off running back towards the grove, praying that she hadn’t killed them.

Dean was busy cutting at the ropes that were holding Sam to the tree, and got his brother down. “Come on, Sammy…Wake up…”

“Was he bitten?” Scheherazade asked anxiously, her momentarily relief at seeing Dean up and kicking dissipating as her face grew pale.

“I don’t know…Wake up, Sammy…”

Scheherazade knelt down beside Dean and picked up Sam’s hand, feeling for a pulse, holding her breath, hoping she’s find one…She let out a sigh of relief when she felt it, though she was worried about how faint it was.

After another moment of tense silence, Sam stirred, groaning.

“Sam?” Dean’s voice was anxious.

The younger Winchester groaned once more. “That rock hurt…”

Dean let out a single laugh, a mixture between relief and exasperation. “Glad you’re still kicking.”

Sam squeezed his eyes shut, a grimace crossing his face. When he opened them again, he looked up at Scheherazade. “Thank you.”

She nodded. “Of course. I’m just glad you weren’t bitten.”

“Yeah, you and me both.”  
* * *  
Dean slammed the trunk of the Impala shut, and got into the driver’s seat, keeping a watchful eye on Sam through his rearview mirror as his brother talked to Scheherazade.

“Thanks again for helping us out,” Sam said, sticking his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

“Really, it’s not a problem.”

“Well, Dean was reluctantly telling me that the two of us would probably be dead by now if you hadn’t been there during the confrontation.”

“Only because I have a clear head.”

Sam laughed. “Yeah, Dean lacks that a lot of the time.”

She nodded a little bit, smiling faintly. “I noticed.”

It fell silent for a moment, and then Sam glanced down at her. “…We actually make a pretty good team. Maybe we could—”

“No,” Scheherazade interrupted, and then looked away guiltily at how sharp her voice had sounded. “I mean…I may have helped this time, but it’s better if I hunt alone. I…I hate feeling responsible for another hunter’s life, especially if I lose whoever I happen to be working with.”

“…I understand,” Sam murmured, masking his disappointment.

Scheherazade nodded, and hesitantly held her hand out to him. “It was nice meeting you, Winchester.”

He smiled faintly and shook her hand. “It was nice meeting you, too, Scheherazade.”

She nodded and turned towards her Camry, getting in and driving away.

Sam finally allowed a sigh to escape his lips, and he headed over to the Impala, sliding into the passenger seat.

“We can follow her,” Dean offered, noticing how upset his brother looked.

“No, it’s fine…She’s right. I’d hate to be responsible for her if she died on our watch. Let’s just find our next case.”


End file.
